Happy Recycling

Miss T’s parents very kindly took me shopping this evening. When I got in the car, Miss T’s mother asked me if I’d like a Christmas pudding. ‘No’, I said. ‘I’d better throw it away, then’, she replied. Further conversation revealed that the pudding was one of those complicated sort of presents which you get when you permit your manipulative, strongwilled and managing old Ma to visit before Christmas — no member of the family has EVER liked Christmas pudding, so it can only be thought of, really, as a gift bought for the sole purpose of causing a row. ‘No, I’ll take it’, I said, since waste is wicked and I had had an idea. What is a Christmas pudding after all, but a conglomerate of suet, fruit, breadcrumbs and sugar? Thus no good to man nor beast, especially the Professor, but potentially very good indeed for tiny birds trying to stay alive in the cruel cold. I had some courgettes which had come in a sort of net bag, and when I got back, I carefully removed the courgettes from the bag without damaging it, inserted the pudding, tied a knot in the top of the bag, and hung it off a meat-hook on my bird-feeding tree. It may have functioned only as a Pudding of Discord up to this point, but I think the blue-tits will be more than happy with it. It’s four below and the heating’s stopped working again. The problem is with fuel supply, so I think that once again something has frozen in the outside pipework.

5 Responses to “Happy Recycling”

  1. Lampy Says:

    Marie swears by slices of Xmas pud fried in butter with bacon, not for the prof, obviously. We’ve been giving the birds last years nuts, all gratefully received so far.

  2. Jane Says:

    I’m not going to dispute this one with the blue-tits. It’s a Tesco’s one, and not a ‘Finest’ or ‘Gourmet’ one, either. Goodness knows what it’s got in it.

  3. the tropical godfather Says:

    I’d better not tell my papa, for he’s addicted to Christmas pudding and would probably turn up at Burnside disguised as a blue-tit.

  4. cp Says:

    Perhaps the pudding had already been the rounds. E got one in a fox a few years ago. The box was dusty, the effect , it was thought, of having sat in a cupboard for the year. A visitor exclaimed: That’s the udding I gave to Margot 3 years ago.

  5. Jane Says:

    I do hope that was ‘in a box’ … the whole business of the Gift Christmas Pudding begins to remind me of the old joke about sardines: a man purchases a container-load of sardines for 5 cents a can. He sells them for 10 cents a can to a broker who passes them on to a jobber for 15 cents. The jobber turns a quick profit by flogging them to a wholesaler for 20 cents a can. The wholesaler offers them at 30 cents to a retailer, who puts them on his shelf at 98 cents a can. A customer buys two cans and returns them both, complaining that the sardines are off. The shopkeeper goes back to the wholesaler and demands his money back. The wholesaler is indignant. “You didn’t open them, did you? Those sardines weren’t for eating, they were for selling.” And puddings, mutatis mutandis, are for giving. Leave ‘em to the bluetits, say I.

Leave a Reply